


Invitation

by abinconvenienti



Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mutual Pining, Porn with Feelings, Priest Kink, Profanity, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, feat. an incredibly weak title, pretty much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-15 07:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abinconvenienti/pseuds/abinconvenienti
Summary: That strange little desk in his room had been a question on her mind for what felt like ages. He already had one, why did he need another one? Religion wasn’t exactly her forte, her hands too deep in someone’s open chest cavity to ponder the nature of existence. The answer he gave her hit her somewhere deep. Knowing what it was for and how it correlated to the voraciousness that Max could show with a shotgun in his hand nearly killed her on the spot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't been able to touch the game in a couple days so I'm taking a couple liberties here due to bad memory but my god, Vicar Max has me feeling a certain way. Written to basically the entire Cigarettes After Sex discography. This will be a 2 part series and it's pretty much just unmitigated filth.

The captain, Max observed, had a peculiar case of sticky fingers. He attributed it to her curiosity; that urge to ask what something does as she reached out into the unknown. It started with Pavarti's wrenches. If he was up late and wandering, he could hear her tinkering away and swearing at something. Pavarti trusted her enough. It only made sense after how many times they put their heads together to "science their way out of some fuckery".

The Captain's words. Certainly not Pavarti’s.

She seemed to leave Felix's tossball cards alone, but Ellie's strange brews weren't off the table after Nyoka had playfully slapped her away from her stash. It was after she tried one that Max noticed her start to break the periphery of entering his room. For the first week or so, she only stepped on by and waved. But lately, she was gaining confidence. His room was open to all and he had no qualms with late night conversations. His eyes lingered on her flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes as she picked up the books scattered around his room.

In fact, after all they had dealt with, he could comfortably say that he enjoyed her company. 

"I've never seen so many books, Vicar," she said to him, mouth parted in awe. He managed to stare at her bottom lip too hard, ever the image of professionalism. Whatever the fuck that accounted for anymore. She rocked on her heels as she ran her fingers over the spines. "Then again, it's been kinda busy. Given all the...The, _ y’know _ ."

Max's eyes twinkled as he finished her thought. The captain tossed her head back to give him a wink paired with a half-hearted finger gun. _ Bullseye, Vicar _ .

"Well hell, Vicar. You said it, not me."

A hum droned on as she flipped open books and traced her fingers along the fine print. Whenever they left the Unreliable, the upper half of her face was always covered by a set of goggles that accentuated the deadpan way she answered to corporate hacks. Now, she was bared to him. He watched the way her entire body responded to a word she liked, her brows raised and her face scrunched.

Her humming trailed off and he noticed her not quite looking at the books anymore. She was looking at what was next to them. He shifted in his seat as he set his book down for the first time since she had wandered in. His own brow rose as she crouched down with cracking knees. For someone who liked to take the covert way, a scalpel over a toss ball bat, she surely made more noise than he expected.

He held that thought and swore inwardly. Speaking would break his controlled silence.

"Was there something on your mind, captain? That offer to counsel is always on--."

"Actually yeah. What the fuck is this?"

His tongue darted out to moisten his lips that had gone dry. She was inspecting the small wooden desk with lithe, curious fingers. She turned and tilted her head up to look at him, wide eyes blinking up at him. Law, she didn't know what she did to him, did she? 

But if she did and she was fucking with him…

It wasn’t out of the question. Max's chest felt unbearably hot underneath his blue vestments. A cruel reminder of his position, his title, in regards to hers. It was truly a strange one and the universe was plenty Law-damned strange. She was the captain of their merry crew of misfits, but she was quick to prod him for his thoughts and guidance out of some respect to his supposed position. At least that was what he assumed.

"It's a prie-dieu," he answered as he stood up and moved to sit on the edge of his bed. From there, she wouldn't have to strain her neck. "It's where I speak to the Law and hope the Law hears me. Back at Edgewater, I also used it for something else but I don't see much reason for it here, all things considered. I wanted to bring it with me regardless."

She was so close to resting her knees on the padded part and the pool of heat that grew low in his belly at the thought alarmed him. He had been a “vicar” for years and until that moment, he had done a hell of a job not thinking such primal, indecent thoughts. And that included prison of all hellholes. He was far too focused on what it all meant and how he could wring it out of someone.

"I thought you didn't speak French," she said with a smile that grew when he huffed annoyance. "You have to be on your knees when you talk to the Law? That’s, uh, something.”

The captain planted her hands on the desk and Max held his breath as she pushed herself to stand. Even then, her eyes never left it. She was curious about it and he could tell. Her teeth chewed on her bottom lip and he couldn’t help but stare. As much warmth crept through Max’s vestments, she had never so much as shown an inkling of interest toward him outside of friendly companionship. 

“Is this where it happens?”

Although he was screaming internally and itching for something to shoot, he remained calm as ever. His head inclined in question as she framed her chin with her fingers. With the upper half of her jumpsuit off her shoulders and tied at her waist, he could see every muscle in her arms and shoulders move. He wasn’t a pining boy, he knew that much. Far from it. He wasn’t sure what he was, torn between this heaven of having her near and hell of not having her close enough.

Sweat gathered at his graying temples.

“An awfully curious question, captain. How do you mean?” He replied as he folded his arms over his chest. Her eyes flickered down for a moment and he swore to Law that her cheeks warmed even further. “Where _what_ happens?”

She leaned in like she was going to tell him the most profane thing in the universe. The answer to every question he had. Her hands grasped her knees as she fully leaned forward to be eye level with him. He had never been prouder of his willpower than he was when he refused to look at the hint of her cleavage. She was the one that had imbibed and yet there he was, desperate for water. He wouldn't argue against something stronger.

“Is this where you take confession, vicar?”

_Law yes_. Well, that was what he wanted to say. It wouldn’t be entirely true but he could--he would--make it work. Max slipped out of his burning thoughts and leveled her with the calm gaze he initially met her with those weeks ago.

“Only if you have something you feel a desperate need to confess, captain.”

The red of her cheeks traveled down her neck and he stopped there, his eyes firmly on hers. She looked ready to say something else, her mouth opening and closing, before she stood up straight and rubbed at the back of her neck. As brazen as she could be, there was a sheepish nature under her sly grins.

“Makes sense!” Was all she said before she offered a quick excuse about the time and departed in double time.

Max heaved a breath and kept his eyes by his sides in spite of his growing arousal. What the hell had just happened? He blinked rapidly and fisted his sheets to gather his bearings. Was she fucking with him? The tinge of alcohol was different than a tinge of raw hunger and yet…

He stood up and scrubbed a hand over his face. It was late and he was fucked. Where exactly this desire for carnal knowledge of the captain came from, he didn’t know. It always happened that way, didn’t it? One moment he was helping the captain through a dizzy spell (a condition he silently cursed Phineas Welles for) and the next, he wondered how she looked on her knees with a mouthful of confessed sins.

The duality of man, such as it was.

His eyes rolled to the ceiling as he crossed his room to shut the door. The captain was right in that it was late, but he needed a good reading to calm the heat in his veins. Except his reading desk was remarkably empty. He stepped out of his room and watched the light of her door vanish as it closed. 

With her sticky fingers, the captain had plenty to confess.

* * *

She couldn’t get out of her jumpsuit fast enough and with the force that she threw it, she about knocked the Spacer’s Choice sign right off the wall. Max’s book thumped dully onto the ground and she winced. The last thing she needed was SAM to bust in and offer to clean. That wasn’t what she needed right now. Truthfully, Ellie’s concoction had all but made it out of her system when she chanced going into Max’s room. With as often as she brought him on expeditions, she didn’t want to hover over him in his personal space. A lesson she learned quickly with Ellie.

But Law did she want to.

That strange desk in his room had been a question on her mind for what felt like ages. He already had one, why did he need another one? Religion wasn’t exactly her forte, her hands too deep in someone’s open chest cavity to ponder the nature of existence. The answer he gave her hit her somewhere deep, somewhere her hands teased down to. Knowing what it was for and how it correlated to the voraciousness that Max could show with a shotgun in his hand nearly killed her on the spot.

It frustrated her how calm he could be in the face of anything. It only served to frustrate her further when that veneer cracked and the _ prison priest _ broke through. She had been startled yet horribly aroused the first time he shot a marauder point blank with a cry of ‘ _ I’ll take your confession now _ ’. It had been in the heat of the moment, a fire fight going sideways that had her pinned on the opposite side of the hideout. The pure shock she felt had stunned her in place, viscera on her face be damned. His strong hand wrapped around hers and lifted her up effortlessly. Her blade hand shook and they remained bunched in the corner until she calmed down. Max murmured phrases and psalms to her as they waited. With his face maybe half a foot away from hers, mumbling some nonsense about the Law, she thought maybe she could buy into religion for a cool minute. She wanted to hug him. She wanted to kiss him.

She would drink raptidon acid before she ever admitted it wasn’t fear that she had been shaking from. Alone in her room, one hand in her underwear and the other wrapped gently around her neck, she absolutely would. Her pulse fluttered at the memory and she was unabashed in the way she circled her clit. It wasn’t hard to imagine her hands weren’t her own.

Seventy years in cryo had done wonders for her sex drive and of course, it would betray her for the attention of a man of the cloth. If that was how the Law worked. It seemed like religion had always been against any intimate knowledge from what little she knew. It sounded ridiculous to her. She wasn’t about to ask Max about it, but the very salacious thought of it had her stifling a moan.

Imagination could do for now.

She rolled onto her stomach and raised up on her knees. Just like the pier-dier or whatever he had called it. It was Max’s hand tugging at a nipple and cupping a heaving breast as she fought to think of confessions through the hand tightening on her throat. She wouldn’t ever tell him and that confidence inspired them to flow freely. The hand on her breast drifted to her swollen clit again before dipping inside of her. With her throat freed, she pinched her nipple harshly. The captain whimpered and threw her head back, hair tickling her shoulders and painting her with goose flesh.

It was Max’s hands that guided her forward to press her chest parallel with the mattress. With a little guidance, her hips opened for him effortlessly. His hands were surprisingly rough for a vicar and she knew that from experience. A stark contrast as they sunk into the soft flesh of her hips. His lips ghosted across the sweat-soaked curve of her spine. He praised her for her honest confessions. Her blood roared in her ears as she fucked back vigorously, trying her best to recall the sweet Lawful nothings he had murmured into her ear.

When she came, sweat-slicked and red hot, she stared into the eyes of the moonman. Her senses came back to her in record time.

_ It’s not the best choice, it’s Spacer’s Choice _ .

She groaned and tossed onto her back. Mood utterly lost. Even on her own damned ship, she was stuck with the second best option.

Such as it was.


	2. Holy To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wrote this at work and I have nothing to say for myself. So enjoy! Please excuse any grammar/punctuation mistakes, I was sinning.

It was such an off-handed Vicar Max brand statement that she really shouldn’t have been as shaken by it as she was. She had never been like this. From what she could remember, at least. Much more focused on the task at hand than anything around. More forest for the trees. Displaced out of time, thawed out by a sketchy old man, and thrown into a leadership role could really fuck up the equilibrium of who you thought you were.

_ For now, you can praise me_.

Her eyes were huge moons as she looked at him. She was grateful that he couldn’t see how downright flabbergasted she felt. He even smirked at her. Was he fucking with her? He had to be. Was this payback for the prie-dieu thing from a couple weeks ago? Nyoka’s hand on her shoulder dropped her right back to reality. Right, they had shit and people to save. Shit and people weren’t mutually exclusive. And she couldn’t wait to get the hell out of Cascadia. 

Luck wasn’t on the captain’s side. She swore to the moon and back as a marauder came screaming at her through the lens of her scope. Her hands fumbled on the magazine of her hunting rifle as she shuffled back. Nyoka had her own mess to deal with and Max had charged off with his shotgun primed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she said as she tucked out of the way just in time to avoid a telescoping rod to the dome. She sprang back up with her rifle in hand and fired off a shot that clipped through the marauder’s helmet, taking out a chunk of their skull on the way. Max grunted out a swear of his own as he slowed down from a full charge to a slow jog towards her. The fire fight hadn’t jarred her in the slightest, but Max’s frustrated and concerned eyes on her sent her nerves haywire. Nyoka took a knee not too far from them, too busy staring off to notice.

“Law, Max, I could’ve taken your head off,” was the first thing the captain said, rushed and out of breath. “Where the hell did you--”

Her voice trailed off as Vicar Max’s gloved hand rested on her shoulder. Sort of. It was hard to with all the leather in the way.

“I was just around the corner, captain. Never stray too far from you, do I? I don’t want you to start thinking I’m not a capable hand.”

She said nothing at the quirk of his full lips and nodded her head. Fuck, she had it bad and a marauader hellscape wasn’t the place to unpack all of that. For all her confidence and bravado in helping Pavarti secure a date with Junlei, she tripped panties first if Max so much as looked at her. Pathetic. She could hear ADA’s monotonous mockery already.

“Back to Fallbrook, yeah?”

Max nodded and squeezed her shoulder before he wandered over to Nyoka to start another existential question. Fallbrook was closer than Stellar Bay and she desperately needed a drink. Maybe two even.

* * *

“So, captain, speaking of hunting big game...Vic, huh?”

The captain sputtered on her whiskey.

“Huh? What? What about him?”

He had stayed behind at their guest suite, offering a hand wave instead of joining them on their celebratory drinks. Even without him there, she warmed at the thought of him. His lips were beautiful and they looked soft. She wondered how they tasted with whiskey on them. She wondered how they tasted with her on them. With her glass tipped back, she downed the rest of her drink as Nyoka observed her through half-lidded eyes.

“Cut the shit, cap. You know I’ve got an eye for mating behaviors and the two of you have been five seconds away from repopulating the Monarch wilds.”

The huntress’s lips quirked, her eyes bright with mischief. The captain and Nyoka hit it off extremely well when they first met. Sweet talking for a brand new pack of caffeinoids had helped and when they both realized their capacity to bullshit, they recognized one another. Which meant that Nyoka could immediately smell a lie when it came from the captain.

“Alright, fine, I’ve got a…”

She held back a groan as she recalled Max’s words. A _ desperate _ need to confess. After the day they had, she supposed she did.

“I’ve got a confession, Nyoka. Like a bad one. A huge one.”

“You want to fuck a preacher.”

The captain bristled and sat up straight. Shit, another telltale sign.

“It’s more than that!”

Nyoka’s smile grew as she topped off their drinks. The huntress hummed her way through victory and tipped her head. The captain yearned for the sweet icicle kiss of cryo.

“Alright, fine. You want to fuck a preacher and then once more with feeling, right?”

Well, when Nyoka put it that way...It was hard for the captain to deny it. Not that she wanted to. She was the captain for fuck’s sake. She had stared down corporate fucks and she hadn’t even made her way halfway through the galaxy yet. Being forward with Max, letting him know what was what…

She could do that.

“It’s kind of bad, right? Y'know, wanting to..to fuck a preacher?”

Even admitting it outright made her feel powerful. The surge that ran through her felt good and she sat up straighter, popped the curve out of her spine. If she had to curve her spine for anyone again, it would be a man of the cloth.

“Captain. Baby. We’re in Fallbrook. Being reasonably bad is kind of the place’s modus operandi. And hey, wasn’t preacher man looking for someone here? Seems like a good time to get modus oper-randy to me.”

Nyoka inclined her head with a smirk and leaned back, fully satisfied with herself. The captain swirled a finger around the mouth of her glass. Nyoka had a point. A Law-damned good point at that. There wasn’t a hell of a lot of privacy on the Unreliable but Ms. Malin had given them a whole room for themselves.

As they finished their last drink, the huntress agreed to tell the rest of the crew that they had shore leave while the captain and the good vicar went about their holy mission.

* * *

After talking Max out of the hellmouth that was beating a man senseless in the river, the captain worried her bottom lip with nervous teeth. A feeling of hypocrisy settled in her gut as they walked back from Reginald Chaney, whose face was remarkably left intact. Nelson Mayson hadn’t been so lucky and the captain’s knuckles still smarted. She was familiar with Max’s fury by now, but the shadow that had fallen over his features distorted him.

Even then, she still wanted him. And she grew agitated by the minute.

When they got back to their shared suite, a thick and heavy silence settled over them. Her gun fell heavily to the ground and her spine popped as she stretched upward. She just wanted to get her damn armor off, but her shoulder ached from how poorly she slept the night before. With her head slightly turned back, she watched as Max took off his armor with focused precision.

“Hey, Max…” she called softly. When his head snapped up to look at her, she gestured to the clasps at her back. He had lied to her and as peeved as she was, she couldn’t hold onto it for long. She wasn’t really Captain Hawthorne and in the galaxy they struggled to get by in, small grudges were dead weight. “Mind giving me a capable hand?”

He let out a relieved breath at her smile. The vicar stepped over without a moment’s hesitation and set to work on the thin metal. The captain slipped her fingers under her visor and pulled it off to toss it aside.

“After what you’ve done for me today, I’ll do anything,” Max said and the weight of the statement hit her in the chest. And the ovaries. Right then wasn’t the time to think such thoughts, but with Max’s hands tugging and pulling at her, it took a Primal effort not to. “Captain, I...Shit. I am sorry. I lied to you in order to get to Chaney and even then, you’re allowing me to stay. I lied to you and you’ve offered me friendship, a place on your crew and yet…”

His hands hovered over her hips as she turned on her heel to face him. Her skin was flushed and her lips pursed. Her hands balled into fists at her side as she stared up at him. They stood there for a long time, simply staring at one another. Breathing and sighing in one another.

“Vicar. Max. Oh, hell, I thought I could pull this shit off.”

He seemed baffled and set his hands at the clasps on her waist, a finger slipped under to loosen her chest piece. A brow quirked.

“I’m...not quite done yet, but I can go faster if you’d like?”

She shook her head, loose pieces of hair falling from the large bun she kept her hair in. Her cheeks puffed out and Max couldn’t quite make sense of what the fuck she was doing. Was she going to hit him? Demand that he leave? Before, it would have been easier to leave. It wasn’t so simple anymore and for the first time in ages, he started to dread. She must have read his expression because she inched closer to him.

“Y’know what? I _ can _ pull this off. I’m the Law-damned Captain and I’ve got something to say,” she finally huffed out. “A...A damn confession.”

Fire rose through her and scorched her nerves. At her words, Max’s hands stilled until hers covered them and compelled them to finish what he started. His lips parted as a storm began to accrue within. Architect above, this was happening.

“But I’m going to do it right,” she said with a nod to assure herself. On her tiptoes she almost reached his mouth. Not close enough but enough to puff nervous breaths against him when she spoke up. “So get this the fuck off me. Please.”

He couldn’t deny her. His hands pulled at clasps and straps without preamble. When he was finished, her armor fell to the floor with an unceremonious crash and they stared at one another. He in his fitted vestments that drew her eyes immediately and she in that loose jumpsuit he was so taken with. Her tongue ran along her teeth in thought before he heard the pop of her knees.

She knelt down in front of him. He pressed his nails into his palms, penance for the raging arousal he kept at bay. She sat back on her heels and stared up at him through her lashes.

“Where do you want me to start?” 

She asked with pinched brow and he answered with a breathy laugh. The bone-aching anxiety of before slipped away and he looked at her with a starving fondness. And a raging need to kiss her bared neck. Or trace his full name into her sensitive bud.

“Start small, captain. The rest will follow after naturally.”

“I’ve stolen two of Pavarti’s wrenches like a month ago and I still haven’t given them back,” she said after a soft sigh. “I know that she knows that I have them, but I feel too ashamed to give them back. One time, I took out SAM’s cleaner fluid just to see what would happen and ADA is still giving me hell over it. Said I gave him an existential crisis. I told Felix that I’m a deity from another planet once when I was hammered and that’s gotta put me on some kind of holy shit list.”

Max tried to keep his face passive. Ellie had about died laughing when he asked her where the captain had gone to after the incident with SAM. ADA had kept the captain’s door locked out of spite, all while reciting poorly written Earth poetry. The captain continued, mentioning the little knick-knacks and valuables that she pilfered off of everyone they happened across. Somehow she had even taken Tobson’s prized hat.

“Captain, as...egregious as those could be, they aren’t confessions. I already knew all of that. What’s truly weighing on your conscience?”

Her face took on that cute indignant expression he loved so much. The same one that stayed in his head long after sleep came. She raised up from sitting on her heels and drew closer. With her knees pressed against his feet, she continued.

“I...I’ve been having bad thoughts, vicar,” she said carefully and he barely contained his body’s response. “I’ve been having certain thoughts and, uh, feelings for a man that I’m not sure is allowed to...enjoy matters of the flesh? Shit, that sounded weird.”

They blinked at each other and he couldn’t hold back his expression of amusement. That smirk appeared again and she followed it. Nyoka would piss herself laughing if she were a drunk fly on the wall. The captain had agreed to go the honest approach and playing coy would just make it worse. They would have been there all night.

“I’ve touched myself and imagined it was him. More than once,” she blurted out. She licked her lips and further straightened her posture. The very same way he had seen her handle negotiations. Was that what this was? “I want to fuck a _ preacher man _ and I don’t feel bad about it all.”

Max groaned so deep and low that _ she _ felt it in her belly. His hand slipped into her loose hair and gently tugged it out of the hair tie. She blinked and he was in front of her. Down on his own knees and with her face in his hands. Whatever his role was as a vicar and whatever hers was as a captain, it didn’t matter.

He could tell her that later that, as the Law dictated, vicars could indeed fuck. It just wasn’t exactly encouraged. For now, he had other methods of showing her.

“You did so well for your first time,” he praised smoothly, a hum in his voice. “I have a confession as well, Captain, but words won’t do it justice. Can I show you?” He pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth and tasted her sweat. His lips ghosted hers when he spoke. “Is it alright if I speak with my hands? With my tongue? With my cock?”

She moaned out a yes before they crashed together, his mouth hot on hers and his hands peeling open her jumpsuit. Her back hit the floor and he crawled over her as he ripped down the zipper. Any sense of disbelief faded when he mouthed a kiss into her chest and felt her rapid heartbeat. Her hands pulled up the long shirt of his vestments. Her nails drug across the light muscle of his abdomen and he shuddered above her. Clearly he had done a lot more than consider life’s place in the Equation when he was in prison.

With her help, he tugged off her boots and her jumpsuit. Quickly, a pile of their clothes grew until they were left in just their underwear. He rose above her on his knees and he grew impossibly hard at the way she looked up at him. She wanted him so badly he could smell it and he dipped his head down to taste her neck. He mouthed at her pulse with care. She swore and bucked her hips against his without shame.

“How did you imagine me, captain?” He separated from her neck long enough to moan into her neck as he gripped her hips and guided her legs around his trim waist. She sighed into him and he smiled against her. Her noises alone could undo him. One hand wandered to her chest and tore at the clasp of her tight bra. Immediately, he rolled her nipples with his thumbs. “I’ve imagined you like this, more than once in a blue moon.”

“Fuck, Max. It’s not fair,” she keened out. She hadn’t expected him to crash over her like a wave, yet he absolutely had. More than eager. Her fingers dug into the muscle of his ass as she rooted her other hand in his hair. “Usually on my knees. Bent over, you behind me. P-Praising me.”

“Oh? We must have shared a dream once.”

He had slipped out of her hold just enough to slip down her body and tear off her tight shorts. A short bite to her hip bone made her gasp and widen her knees. His lips traced a line to the soft flesh of her inner thigh and he peered up the length of her body. A finger traced her wet heat slowly.

“Look at you, captain,” he said with a cocky, subdued smile. “All this for me? You treat me too well. You allow me to stay on your ship and then give me the greatest gift of your company. It’s enough to make a man adore you and _fuck me_, do I adore you.”

She could kill him. The thought didn’t last long as his breath kissed along her wetness for the briefest moment before his mouth latched onto her. Eyes rolled back and moans spilling out of her, she was better than the vicar’s poor attempt at imagination. He was halfway through his full name, fingers and tongue on her, when she abruptly sat up and pulled him to her. Her tongue shoved itself against his and he growled into her mouth.

“They teach you that in church or in prison?” the captain gasped out as she rutted against him. “Fucking hell, Max...” 

The vicar wrapped his arms around the captain and hefted her up to stand with him so they could collapse against her unmade bed. They murmured lust-drunken promises to one another and he hissed when she shoved him onto his back. She looked divine above him, messy hair haloed by the dim bedlight. Her kiss-bruised lips smiled at him as she tugged off his briefs and leaned over to kiss the swollen head. Teased the very tip with her tongue and drew a wet line to the base.

Law, as much as he wanted it, he didn’t think he would last.

“Next time,” he promised, voice gruff and strained. His hands trembled against her hips. “Next time, Captain. I need you now. I want you always.”

The outright lust in her eyes pulled back and in its place, stood something of a gentler nature. She nodded and leaned over his body to kiss him slow and messy. She braced her hands on either side of his head as she positioned her hips over his. The room felt painfully quiet with the exception of their breath. Her hiss cut through the silence as she began her path of descent.

“Oh sweet Law, captain,” Max hissed as he trembled. She went slow and took her time to adjust to his full length. “You’re doing so well, you take me so well. I could stay here for—”

“Max, you fucking feel fantastic. I—”

A long and low guttural moan interrupted their thoughts as she slowly swiveled her hips. His hands ran a marathon around the flesh of her hips, squeezing and pulling at her in a desperate long unknown to him. She needed him deeper and he craved her closer. She sank down flush onto him and felt him twitch deep within her. The muscles lining his arms flexed as he pushed himself backward. With his back against the curve of the bed, he wrapped one arm around her and began to rock up into her.

“Fuck, Max. I didn’t think—”

“Don’t think, Captain,” Max replied calmly as he fucked into her. “I’m here. You’re here. Let me show you.”

With a primal growl, he pinned her onto her back and pressed his shoulders into the crook of her knees. The sound she made was absolutely delicious. He swallowed her moans as he pressed up and into her, hitting a spot that had her breath hitching and her nails cutting lines into the spattering of scars across his shoulder blades. She squeezed him so tight he could have cried.

Perfect. She was perfect and he told her as much, breathless and reverent. She gasped her name out to him and he took to it like wildfire. Skin slapped together loudly and he thanked the Law that the room was completely soundproof. He wouldn’t have cared even if it wasn’t. That petty part of him wanted to relish in the Nelson Mayson’s disappointment.

“Keep squeezing me like that and I won’t last,” he warned. Sweat dripped from his brow and made his hips slick under her calves. She smirked at him and he bit into her shoulder when she squeezed him deliberately. For all her snark, she was close too and she fluttered around him. Quaking and shuddering, the good vicar went for depth rather than speed. “Where? Where do you want me?”

The tightening of her legs around him had him raise his head and meet her eyes. To be sure. She nodded and threw her head back as she slid a hand between them. The prospect of a similar tomorrow reinvigorated him as he returned to his punishing pace. 

A loud, desperate sound came from the captain and he answered it with a drawn out moan of his own. He wound his fingers in her hair and tugged her head back to look him in the eye.

“Are you going to come for me? Are you going to come for your vicar?” 

She squeezed him with wild abandon and with powerful, short jerks, he spilled into her as she screamed his name in answer. His full one at that too. Max gasped out hers and he tried to hold himself up through it. Fuck. He hadn’t...Not in so long. She relinquished her grip on his shoulders and smoothed her hands down his toned back. Her hand lingered over a deep scar just above his ass.

“What happened here, Max?”

“I learned a few things from prison, as you know,” he said, voice low and quiet against her thrumming neck. Together, they hummed in satisfaction as he slowly withdrew from her. “I’ll tell you about it someday.”

He made no further effort to move as he slowly dropped his weight onto her. Her fingers carded through his thick hair and her legs loosened from around his waist. With the way she held him against her and the way he breathed softly against her hot skin, the crew might need a further extended shore leave.

“Next time, huh?” She asked with a wet laugh. “You sure about that, Max?”

She drummed her fingers against skull. A sign of underlying worry that he noticed early on with her. He tilted his head slightly to look up at her. For as tired as he looked, he still had the energy to smirk up at his captain with narrowed eyes.

“Of course. Knowing you, you still have plenty to confess to me and I haven’t had you on your knees yet.”


End file.
